Delicate
by Laugher.Lover.Fighter
Summary: AU story. A year after Prince Charming's death in the Great Ogre War, Emma reminisces on the things her father loved, the things she misses and the things she loved most about him. Based on characters of Once, but plot based on the movie Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.
1. Gone

**Delicate**

**Hey guys! Coming at you is another half crossover type thing. An AU one shot, set in fairytale land, right after Charming's death in the Great Ogre War. The characters of Once stay the same, but I'm using a bit of the plot of the movie: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, which was an amazing movie. Probably going to be a one shot but if I get a good response I might make it a story. The song lyrics are from, Delicate by Damien Rice.**

**Dedications: You girls know who you are! I can never thank you enough for all your inspiration and kind words. Also to my other readers, or some new readers, thank you so much.**

_So why do you fill my sorrows_

_With the words you've borrowed_

_From the only place you've known_

_And why do you sing Hallelujah_

_If it means nothing to you_

_Why do you sing with me at all?_

He had been gone for only one year, and I missed so many things about him. I miss how his eyes crinkle up when he smiles. I miss his blue eyes that would seem to light up at the mere mention of my mother's name. How he spoke my name, Emma, just Emma when he knew I did not want to talk. His care and effort put into every problem for the kingdom, and how he would not rest until everyone was happy. His happiness around my mother, and how he would just reach for her hand when she was upset. The way he looked when he was focused, his lips in a tight line, but his eyes still alight with love. His sandy blonde hair, and how it stuck up slightly at the back. How even though my mother tried to get him to wear fancy king like clothes, he would always wear his leather hunting outfits. The way my mother would have to lead him through the forest whenever we traveled, because she was the only one who knew it better then him. The love he had for my mother, and how you could tell whenever he was around her. His sword, and the way he would protect it with so much love, it was like a child. The way he held me, even though I was getting older, when all I wanted to do was cry. How the thing that made him most nervous was when he talked to me about men. The stubble on his face that showed he was tired, but that he would still try to pretend he wasn't.

He loved so many things, from the little things to people. My mother was obviously at the top of his list, I had never seen a love like theirs. They seemed to understand each other on this level that no one else did, their love made obvious by anyone who was near him. It was also in the little gestures, how they would tease each other or kiss a moment longer then anyone else would. He also loved me, he told me frequently, but the times that were most obvious were small. We would have sword fights, or just stay up and talk for hours on end. My father was my world, and that world was an amazing place to be. He used to tell me about how there was a kingdom, but it floated away and now no one would ever be able to find it. We used to look together when I was young, he would lift me onto his shoulders, and I would be able to touch the treetops, laughing with giddiness at the happiness I felt in those moments. He would look up at me, and I would look down at him, brown eyes locking on blue as I touched the scar on his chin. He would laugh, set me down and then we would run back to the castle. He also loved every single person in our kingdom, and would often spend hours with just one if it meant their problem could be resolved.

He loved little things that only my mother and I knew as well as the people around us. He loved his sword above any other weapon, and polished it frequently. His favorite season was summer, because it was when he met my mother. He loved the sound of the wind whipping around the trees, and closing his eyes and soaking in the sun. He loved when I would come to him first if I had a problem, and loved listening to every word. The way my mother would run her fingers over his scar, and he would catch her hand before she let if fall. He loved journeys, and I would often lead him down forest paths with no way of knowing where we were going. His favorite time of day was night, when he could stare at the stars with my mother. He secretly liked gardening, I saw him once scold his friend Thomas for taking a whack at my mother's roses. His favorite flower was a rose, and he would bring one in for my mother every morning. But his favorite little thing that trumped everything else, but that hardly anyone knew about, was that he loved cinnamon in his hot chocolate.

One day, a bright day last summer, a knight came riding into our castle, screaming into oblivion, with cuts and bleeding scars everywhere. He broke down in tears as he saw my mother's face light up with confusion. I didn't need him to say it, I knew, somehow I knew. I remember practically collapsing onto the carpet, sobs wracking my body as I heard my mother say: "But Sir Phillip, my husband is coming back right? Is the war over?"

"Your Majesty, your husband is gone, and the war is far from over," Sir Phillip hung his head, and that was one of the first times I saw a grown man cry.

"Gone? Did he run off the battle field to help someone?" my mother had a questioning tone, and I think she still did not understand.

Sir Phillip took my mother's hand and let a few more tears slip as he partially whispered: "Your husband is dead, your Majesty. He is gone, and he's never coming back."

I did not even want to see my mother's reaction, instead burying my face in the carpet in our great hall, just outside the door from my mother and Sir Phillip. Sir Phillip's words echoed in my mind: "Your husband is dead, your Majesty. He is gone, and he's never coming back." The words bore into my mind, over and over, until the only two words I could think of amid the chaos were dead and gone. Then only one word: _Gone, Gone, Gone. _I remembered all the things I would love and miss about him, and the things he had loved.

My world, my rock, my best friend, my shoulder to cry on, my father was gone.

And he was _never_ coming back.

Gone.

**Well sorry if that was depressing, I couldn't stop thinking about the movie when I finished it, and thought it would make a great one shot coupled with OUAT. Thanks you for taking the time to read, and please review and tell me your thoughts on this story, leave it or love it? **


	2. Forever

**Chapter 2- Amie**

**Hello again! Here comes chapter 2, with a bit of a new spin. For this chapter, it's going to be told from James's point of view, right before he dies in the ogre war. The chapter title comes from Damien Rice's song: Amie. I wrote it in similar fashion to the first chapter so I hope you like. Please review!**

**Dedications: Again, you girls know who you are! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing my fics tirelessly and providing endless inspiration to strive for better stories each and every time. More specifically I also wanted to dedicated this to: SnowandJames4eva, who came up with some of the ideas for this chapter and who I am happy to call my friend. Love ya girl!**

_Nothing unusual nothing's changed_

_Just a little older that's all_

_You know when you've found it there's something I've learned_

_'cause you feel it when they take it away hey hey_

_Then something unusual something strange_

_comes from nothing at all_

_But I'm not a miracle and you're not a saint_

_just another soldier on a road to nowhere_

_Amie come sit on my wall and read me the story of O_

_tell it like you still believe that the end of the century_

_brings a change for you and me_

I was going to die. I knew that already, as I stared down at the injured, wrecked and dead members of my army. I did not feel scared, or angry, I rather welcomed my end hoping it would bring light amongst this darkness. An ambush of over 100 men had caught us off guard, but I met my attacker's eyes with a fierce look of determination. The sounds of battle became quieted as many men began to run towards me. I welcomed the end, knowing it would might bring peace to the war raging around me. Suddenly I saw Sir Phillip, hands over his head, begging for mercy from a black knight. I drew strength, and began sprinting towards him, and having no weapon at my disposal, felt my armour rock as I tackled the man about to kill him. The men who had taken an interest in killing me, suddenly turned and ran towards me again, seeing that I had fallen one of their comrades. I closed my eyes, and thought of my wife and daughter, but more than that I thought of all the things I would miss and loved about my little girl.

I would miss so many things about her. The way her blonde hair caught the light when she turned her head. I would miss the dimples on her cheeks that would grow when I tried to make her laugh. The way she cried onto my shoulder, and how I would be the only one who could dry her tears. Her determination to fight for what she believed in, whether it was small, such as her chores, or big. When she would have sword fights with me, and would never know that I let her win. The way her eyes twinkled when she spoke of Graham, a look I knew all too well. Her blue eyes, that matched mine in color, but whose fiery look of spirit matched her mother's. How she still slept with her baby blanket, even though she was becoming a young woman. The way she would whisper my name when she wanted me to tell her a story. How her ears would blush red whenever I asked her about men, especially Graham. How she would refuse adamantly about wearing dresses, instead trying to dress like me. The way her hair caught the wind, and billowed out behind her when she rode a horse. How close she was with her mother, and how when they would talk, they sounded like best friends. When we would drink hot chocolate together, and she would laugh at me getting cinnamon everywhere. Her musical laugh, and how it sounded loudest whenever she was with me.

She had loved so many things, from the little things to people. She loved her mother, as made obvious whenever she was around her. I had never seen them fight, and they could always talk for hours when the other was upset. They shared this unbreakable bond, even when they were angry or upset that could never be broken. She also had me very high on her list, and she told me frequently. When we would tell stories, or sit and talk, or she would just cry, when she whispered my name, _James_, I knew that I had the perfect daughter. Through all the laughter, sadness and heartbreak, I could always find some way to help her, and she told me she loved me for it. Knowing that I had a daughter who loved me like no one else, brought a smile to my lips many times. Although she would not admit it to me, I could tell that her love burned brightly for Graham, a huntsman who had joined my army long ago. Everytime we would go off to battle into the forest, I would allow my men to race ahead of me, while I stayed concealed in the forest watching as Graham held onto his horses's reins and talked to Emma. She smiled up at him, and when he gave her a single rose each time, her ears would blush that deep red that I loved so much. Once, I even saw Graham plant a kiss on Emma's cheek, and he had been somewhat distracted all through battle. When I got to the castle that night, Emma could not stop smiling, and she met my eyes several times and laughed. It was then that I knew, that Graham was Emma's true love, and I could not have asked for more for her. Her genuine love for all our subjects in the kingdom also brought me pride, knowing that I was passing down a kingdom into the hands of someone who could rise above the challenge.

My little girl loved so many little things that only my wife and I knew about. Her favorite fruit was an apple, much to my wife's chagrin. She loved the way the forest seemed to whisper to us while we rode on our horses to a far off destination. The feeling of the wind roaring through the trees, and how it would blow her hair every which way. How from her balcony window, a rainbow would appear without fail every time the rain had fallen and the sun burst through the clouds. The way my wife would always whisper secrets to my daughter first, and I would pout and beg them to tell me. When she was little and we went to go find the kingdom that floated away, she loved being on my shoulders and touching the treetops. I loved how she would clutch onto me for dear life in those moments, but I would never let her go. How I would whistle a tune her mother and I made, and she would repeat it while we worked. The way her baby blanket seemed to never break, and the way it smelled when I tucked her in at night. When my mother would touch my scar, and I could feel her eyes on us, wishing for a love like ours. Her favourite season was summer, much like mine, because it was when her mother and I had first met. Her favourite time of day was the dusk, when I would take her horse back riding and teach her about the forest. One of her ultimate favourite things was having cinnamon in her hot chocolate, much like her mother and I. But Emma's favourite thing above all were those moments when Graham stayed with her right before battle, and gave her the single rose that reminded me so much of myself and my wife.

As I snapped out of my day dream like trance, I saw a single black knight standing over me, his sword poised over my heart. I remembered Snow, just Snow and all the things I would miss about her. When we had met, she had been the most beautiful, strong, whole hearted woman I had ever met, and she continued to be that way to this day. Although we had met from a somewhat chance encounter, I preferred to think of it as fate. I would always find her, a promise I intended to keep even when I passed on and was no longer there to hold her or kiss her or tell her how much I loved her. There would never be a day that went by when I would not think of her, in this life or the next.

I thought of the things I would miss with Emma, and it brought tears to my eyes. I would miss seeing her reaction to her first real kiss, her smile unable to be wiped off her face. I would miss her first date, probably with Graham, and how happy she would be to have a day alone with him. I would miss her actually winning a sword fight, although she had come close to making me beg for mercy. I would miss riding horses with her through the forest. I would miss walking her down the aisle, to her true love. I would miss kissing her goodbye, but letting her go on with a man who I knew would try to protect her as I did, each and every day. I would miss our father daughter dance, when she would lean in and laugh but cry and just hold onto me like she would never let go. I would miss being a grandfather to her children, reading them the stories I read to Emma every night from the leather bound book. And I would miss just being able to see her each and every day, knowing I had raised an amazing woman.

I hoped Emma and Snow would be able to carry on without me, and I made a silent prayer as the knight plunged the dagger through my heart. I gritted my teeth as I felt my breathing slow, but I was able to utter out one final sentence that rang truer then any I had ever spoken before:

"I will always love both of you then, now and forever."

"_Forever_."

* * *

**Sorry for another sad chapter, I thought it would be great to take you for a spin of James's thoughts before he died. Share your thoughts by review if you can! The possible final next chapter will be the funeral, but can Emma and Snow keep their relationship intact through the heartbreak? Tune in to find out!**


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